


Bruised

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [399]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:52:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9060760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: tumblr anon requested: Brains and Brawn after a close call





	

Virgil looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight prize fighter.  The pair of black eyes set against his still-pale skin gave him the aspect of a panda bear, but there was nothing sweet about the split lip or the angry gouge straight across the bridge of Virgil’s nose that would inevitably scar.

His right arm was in a cast, elbow to wrist, but he’d managed to get away with only a stabilizing wrapper around his left knee.  The asymmetry made crutches difficult, but Virgil was stubborn and refused the chair out to the slow, staid standard jet that would take him from hospital to home.

The doctors had ruled out concussion, at least, all his MRI’s clear, and Brains knew he should be grateful for small mercies.  He tried not to hover, but felt like he was connected to Virgil by a long cord regardless, loathe to drift too far away as they eased him, crutches and all, back into the villa.  Grandma Tracy fussed as she brought him food and drink, his brothers circling and clucking like hens.

Virgil smiled as much as his split lip would allow, cracking jokes and letting his brothers reassure themselves he was still with them.

Brains wasn’t the only one who noticed Virgil start to flag.  “Brains,” Scott asked, sitting back.  “I think it’s his bedtime, can we hand him off to you?”

“Hey,” Virgil had protested.

“He’s the only one we can be reasonably sure will make sure you stay in bed and not sneak off to get into more trouble,” Scott teased, hauling his brother upright even as Brains collected the crutches.

There’d been a few more minutes of banter, the usual playful brotherly tussling toned right down out of respect for Virgil’s bruised and broken body, before Brains stepped in and led Virgil away.

“Shower?” Brains asked as he firmly closed their door on the rest of the family.

Virgil shook his head, even as he stumped awkwardly towards the en suite.  “Nah, just let me brush my teeth.”

Brains nodded, kicking off his shoes and lining them up by the door before he stripped, quickly changing into his pajamas.  As he turned down the bed, he found his gaze drawn towards the crack of light showing around the bathroom door.

Virgil was taking a long time.

Moving quickly, bare feet silent on the thick rug, Brains eased the door open.

In the split second before Virgil realized he was there, Brains saw him in the mirror, curled up on himself and face a picture of agony.  “Virgil!” Brains cried out, pushing fully into the small bathroom.

Virgil snapped back to himself, or at least the version he had been playing for the others.  He even managed a watery smile in his reflection. ‘Oh, hey, just a second….”

But now that he was looking, Brains saw the cracks in the performance.  “T-t-talk to me,” he ordered, his hands firm on Virgil’s broad shoulders.

Virgil came undone by degrees, curling like he was moving each single vertebrae in turn until his cheek was pressed into Brains.

Brains wrapped his arms carefully around Virgil and let him hold on as long and as tight as he dared.  “Virgil?” he asked softly.

“Sorry,” Virgil said, straightening just enough to rub his eyes with his un-injured hand. “Guess it kind of just hit me how close that was.”

Brains chuckled without humour.  “That was p-p-particularly finely cut,” he admitted. “But you made it home.  You walked away.”

Virgil’s eyes drifted closed.  “That’s twice now.  And you know what they say about the third time.”

The feeling of impending dread that Brains had been trying to keep at bay came flooding back, coating his heart in ice.  “Don’t say that,” he begged quickly.  “Don’t even think that.”

Virgil was breathing deeply, deliberately.  “Maybe we should,” he said softly.  “Maybe we should make plans for that day.  Just in case.”

Brains grabbed Virgil’s hands and guided them up to cover his own ears.  “Not listening to you,” he told Virgil.  “La la la.”

That got an honest smile out of Virgil, the first since the crash.  He let his hands drop to Brains’ shoulders, his thumb brushing the curve of Brains’ jaw.  “Denial doesn’t make it any less a possibility,” he said, almost fatalistically.  “We’ve been lucky so far, but we can’t go on expecting luck to be on our side forever.”

“We make our own luck,” Brains told him, his hands finding purchase along Virgil’s hips.  

Virgil gave him a very old look and pressed a delicate kiss to Brains’ forehead.  “I don’t want to think about it either.  But I’m not just me anymore.  I’m part of this _we_ ,” he said, and Brains couldn’t stop the warm smile the idea drew out of him.  “We should talk about it.”

Brains felt sick at the thought, but the logic was sound.  “Alright,” he agreed.  “But tomorrow.  You’re exhausted, and to be honest, so am I.”  He ran his hands up and down Virgil’s arms  until he felt the texture of the cast.  “Come on,” he added, giving Virgil’s unencumbered wrist a gentle tug.  “Come to bed.”

Virgil leered and winked.  “Don’t need to ask me twice?”

Brains laughed, loud in the small, tiled space, and led the way back to their bedroom.


End file.
